Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)
by TheResurrectionist
Summary: New description! Crobby prompt for a friend. Crowley and Bobby discuss Hell, but Crowley disappears after their fight. Crowley!Angst and a lot of Hurt!Bobby and Hurt!Crowley. Reviews are loved like candy. PART SIX IS UP. Rating has gone waaaaay up.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Written for an amazing friend. Second part will come soon. Also, got my first flame today. I'm beginning to feel like one of the guys!

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

Bobby wondered how long Crowley was on the racks in Hell.

He didn't appear anything but savvy, so complete and Crowley that it was kind of hard to imagine him being in pain ever. But he knew demons were human once, and when the thought came to him, it wouldn't leave.

How long was he on the racks before he picked up the knife?

It wasn't that he was judging the man, far from it. After both Winchesters took the world tour of Hell and back, he knew everyone was different. And that made him curious.

And a curious Bobby was a pushy one.

Did Crowley fight it, like John? But John escaped. How much longer would he have held on, anyway?

Or did he give in like Dean, years of blood and screaming breaking the bravest person Bobby knew.

Was he given no choice, like Sam? Who still didn't walk the same way, eyes harder than anyone's Bobby knew.

When did he pick up the metaphorical knife? Was it even a decision he had to make?

Did he like it?

Maybe he did, Bobby mused.

Was Bobby okay with that?

Hell, he didn't know. Bobby had blood on his hands too.

How Crowley even got to Hell in the first place was no question. The man was as slimy as they got, and no one learned that purely in Hell. Bobby was pretty sure Crowley was making deals before he even knew Hell existed.

But there were things you asked your (Sometimes) lover, and this wasn't it.

Bobby never listened to rules anyway. His momma woulda been ashamed.

So, when Crowley appeared the next day sipping bourbon on his ratty (But loved) couch, he sprung the question. Pretty bluntly, apparently. Bobby gave himself an inernal smack as the words left his lips.

"How long were you in hell? And when did you start torturing?" he asked curiously, not thinking to be embarrassed.

Crowley's nostrils flared, face freezing, but the rest of his body was composed.

"And whatever brought that question up, Robert?" he asked smoothly, after a few seconds, hand tightening slightly around his glass.

Bobby almost saw fear flicker across his face.

Bobby blushed a little, turning his face away. "Nothing."

He paused. "It's just…"

Crowley nodded, looking like an eagle with those sharp eyes. "You wanted to know how I turned." He said simply, using the words like a knife back at Bobby, jabbing him like he knew exactly where Bobby kept his heart.

And he bet Crowley knew, too.

Bobby winced, but sat down next to Crowley, boots and jeans looking out of place next to Crowley's suit and shiny lace up shoes.

Ah well. Juxtaposition at its best.

"What was it like?" He asked so simply, unquestionably direct that Crowley flinched a little, shocking Bobby.

Crowley looked down, composing himself, liquid in the glass reflecting black eyes as Crowley smiled, demon eyes delighted.

Crowley, the bastard, had the nerve to look excited. "Oh, story time! Where do I start?"

Bobby scowled at him, ready to smack the man if he kept with the sarcasm. Crowley knew Bobby saw the flinch, that quick flit of fear across the mask.

This was gonna be a damn conversation, not the Winchester banter that seemed to flow like oil between the demons and the boys.

Crowley seemed to get the "I will hurt you" vibe and settled down a little.

"I was sent to Hell for pretty much everything," Crowley started after he stopped smiling.

"It wasn't fun down there."

"No shit." Bobby said amiably, nodding for him to go on.

He didn't.

The world's most eloquent person seemed lost for words.

Crowley's face was blank, eyes reverting to their vessel's color.

Finally, he spoke.

"Bobby," Crowley said almost brokenly. "I don't know what to say. I can't say anything."

Silence.

Bobby was shocked.

"No sarcastic comments? No jabs?" He asked the demon, after a few seconds, incredulous.

Crowley lifted his head up, eyes burning holes in Bobby's.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked Bobby, accent curling viciously.

"That it was bad? To cry on your shoulder and finally forgive myself for all of it?"

Crowley almost snarled at him, standing up and turning away from him.

Bobby followed Crowley to the kitchen, where Bobby's new bottle of whiskey sat untouched, gleaming gold in the low light.

The demon poured himself another glass, eyes closed as he tipped the glass back.

The suit suddenly seemed a little fake to Bobby, a part of Crowley, but not all of Crowley. Like his drinking, because Bobby knew what they called him in town. Little did they know that being an alcoholic wasn't all he was.

"Crowley," Bobby started, hands out in front of him.

"What was it?" he asked softly, eyes imploring. "What happened to you?"

Bobby didn't dare to breathe.

Crowley's hand shot out suddenly, smacking the bottle to the floor in a crash.

Silence again.

"I….." Crowley said, breathing heavily. "I apologize, Robert."

"It's fine." Bobby muttered after a second. "I'm sorry Crowley."

The demon frowned, barely in control of himself. "Sorry?"

Bobby nodded, worried the demon would lash out again.

"I brought it up. I'm sorry. I just wanted to know..."

He trailed off.

"Why I'm like this?" Crowley finished.

"Leave it, Bobby. Don't ask me again."

"Crowley-"

He stopped when he saw Crowley's face, so bare of human emotion and so closed that Bobby had to look away from the anger he could see there. He turned away, hoping to end it there.

"You think you, a stupid little human, could force me to tell you? To break myself open and leave all my secrets bare?" Crowley spat out viciously.

"Do you know how much I HATE you right now? You weak excuse for..." Crowley stopped, seething.

Still, Bobby didn't turn around. Didn't grab his lover's hands and comfort him.

Heavy breathing, a slight hitch, and then silence again.

Then, there was a light rustle, and Bobby knew Crowley was gone.

A/N Tbc very soon! Drop me a review!


	2. Chapter 2

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

A/N Short update! Can I get a high five from the crobby fans anyway? J

* * *

There was a quick knock on Bobby's door, shocking him out of his semi-conscious state over his glass.

Bobby walked to the door slowly, air sluggish around him as he reached an arm forward to unlatch the door.

He was greeted by Crowley's smiling face; cheerful and completely different from the cold mask of rage he'd worn what seemed like hours ago. Bobby knew it must have been…what…a couple days? Weeks?

"Robert!" Crowley said cheerfully. "These are for you." He said, gesturing to a bouquet of roses appearing in his hand.

They were bloody red. Bobby hated that that was his first thought, but all he could see was the red.

Dragging his eyes away from the flowers, he stared at the demon, confused.

"Why are you here?" He asked, voice gruff from the whiskey he'd been nursing.

Crowley just shrugged, eyes wide and confused. "Why wouldn't I be here?" he asked innocently.

Bobby frowned at the demon's slightly out of character tone. "Well, first of all, we just had a fight." _I think._

He resisted the urge to reach behind him and grab his shotgun. Something about this conversation was making his skin crawl.

This was Crowley, for God's sake. Shouldn't he be rubbing something in Bobby's face?

"Of course we did." Crowley said with a _please forgive me _smile. "But I'm here to apologize, Robert."

"Y'are, are you know?" He grumbled, and waited for Crowley to jump in and criticize his slang.

He didn't.

"Yes, I am." Crowley looked into Bobby's eyes, whiskey eyes wide and almost _innocent._

"I'm sorry, Bobby."

Bobby? Crowley NEVER called him Bobby. Absolutely never.

Bobby turned away, confused and a little hurt. What was going on?

"I'm sorry, Bobby." Crowley said when Bobby's face turned away. "I truly am."

"Yeah, you said that already." He grumbled to the demon. Hating that he had to do this, he gestured for the demon to come inside. Maybe something inside would help.

Long shot, he knew, but his brain was sort of fuzzy…..how much did he drink again?

He didn't hear the demon move, and after a few seconds of waiting, looked up.

What he saw horrified him.

Crowley's eyes turned inky black, past that of a normal demon, going so black it dripped out of his sockets, running down his face like grotesque makeup.

Bobby stifled a gasp as the roses Crowley still held in his hands turned to blood, dark red running down the demon's arms slowly, dripping on Bobby's porch like a metronome.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"I'm sorry, Bobby." Crowley said again, and Bobby turned his gaze back to find bits of flesh falling off of Crowley's face, leaving a bloody, grinning skull.

Bobby turned to run, but his feet were bolted down with what felt like elephants. He tried to struggle, but Crowley's fleshless hands gripped his face, bones clacking against each other terrifyingly.

The demon's hands were almost warm.

They were still covered in blood, Bobby realized. Oh God.

"Sorry, Bobby." The skeleton said again, eyes like holes and teeth like the bones of the animals Bobby used to see in the desert where he grew up, the dead skulls glaring and staring and Bobby couldn't, couldn't-

"Bobby." The THING crooned at him, rubbing those awful hands down his face slowly, making Bobby shiver.

"Bobby." Louder now, as the hands gripped his throat and began to squeeze.

Bobby couldn't breathe, felt his windpipe being crushed by the monster, and all he could hear was-

"Bobby!."

Bobby's eyes flew open to Sam Winchester's terrified face looming above him, wide green eyes worried and so NORMAL Bobby could've kissed him.

"Oh God." He panted in a voice he'd never admit to using.

"Bobby?" Sam asked worriedly, checking him over quickly with his hands, ghosting over Bobby's still heaving chest.

"God, what happened?" He asked Bobby, gesturing to a figure standing in the corner. Dean.

"Bobby," Dean said in that no-nonsense tone of his. "What the hell?"

Bobby closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch he was laying on.

"I don't know."

* * *

A/N I know, short update, but I'd had this idea in my head for a while. Drop me a review?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Here's the next chapter! Leave me a review?

* * *

The boys didn't stay very long after Bobby woke up.

There was another hunt, another problem, so they hit the road and left, sending a few worried glances at Bobby as the Impala sped away.

Always leaving, those Winchesters were. But Bobby supposed Winchesters were like that for a reason.

He didn't sleep for two days after that first nightmare, afraid the second he closed his eyes Crowley's bloody skull would be there grinning at him.

So he clung to his coffee like a madman and threw himself into his work, helping out hunters nearly 24/7 and fixing cars at the same time.

On the third day, he crashed, falling asleep underneath one of his cars and cursing himself when he woke up three hours later.

There were no more nightmares, though.

There wasn't any Crowley either.

The demon had never been gone for this long before, even though Bobby had never really realized this till today.

He was always there, a quick snark about Bobby's food choice or a sudden (manicured) hand on his shoulder.

Little things, like reminders written in black calligraphy left on Bobby's fridge, things like "Buy more of that scotch" or "Miss me yet, darling?" When he was out.

Bobby had felt out of touch since Crowley's departure, but hasn't put two and two together till now.

Bobby missed Crowley. He really did.

He didn't care that Crowley was only gone because he was pissed. He didn't care that the demon had smashed his best bottle of whiskey and left furious.

It was Bobby's fault, honestly. He was the one who'd brought up Hell, after all.

Hadn't he known it was going to be a touchy subject?

Bobby hadn't known. Crowley was always so...put together. From the perfectly fitted suit to the cool mask of amusement and sarcasm the demon wore like a talisman.

He was so...

Crowley.

Crowley didn't freak out. Crowley was never violent near Bobby.

Bobby knew all demons had dark in them, twisted parts that couldn't be healed. Never never never.

But Bobby made Crowley leave his day job outside of the auto yard, made him take it off like a jacket. And it stayed outside.

Bobby wasn't stupid-he knew what his lover was up to during the day-and he knew that it left a mark, somewhere deep down on Crowley's soul. (If he had one, that is)

Bobby didn't know.

After a few weeks, the uncomfortable feeling morphed into full discomfort and then later despair, oddly enough.

He found himself doing stupid things, like when Bobby spent the morning trying to remember how long they'd been together, and was shocked to find it'd been just under three years.

Three years. Was Bobby really that old?

He didn't get up, laying in bed and reminiscing like he'd started doing the last few weeks. Thinking about all the picnics, the goddamn IKEA trips Crowley had made him go on.  
(It's not pink, darling, that's salmon. Trust me, it'll look great in your bathroom)

He was a mess, he knew. The bottles lining the side of his bedside table were proof enough.

He sighed all the time now, sighed grabbing the covers and sighing when he realized there was no one next to him when he rolled over.

Again.

Enough was enough.

He needed to find Crowley, he decided.

* * *

The spell was simple, one he'd used for the Winchester boys plenty of times. A simple demon binding spell, the same one they'd used on Crowley all those years ago.

Bobby wondered if it would still work, considering Crowley's increased pay level.

Well, here goes nothing. He thought as he dropped the match into the bowl, watching the sparks flare up with a sort of detached curiosity.

A smooth voice rolled out, shocking Bobby out of his reverie.

"Robert," Crowley said, standing in the middle of the pentagram, looking disheveled. "I'm sorry, no business hours on Sundays. You're going to have to call back later." He said, avoiding eye contact with Bobby as he delivered what felt like lines from a script to Bobby's shoes.

Bobby was shocked to see blood curling down the side of Crowley's face. "Is that blood?" He asked, taking in the rest of the demon.

His suit was ripped, dirty in some places but overall ruined.

Crowley wouldn't go out in public wearing that, Bobby knew. The demon would rather wear nothing than be caught in something dirty.

"Just let me go." Crowley intoned, eyes still on Bobby's shoes. "Robert, please."

Please? Crowley never begged. Never.

"Hold on," Bobby said. "Just tell me why you're gone." He said simply, staring at Crowley, wondering if he needed to grab the rock salt.

The demon wouldn't move. Wouldn't look up at Bobby, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Crowley?" He asked, worried. "Are you alright?"

A choked sound came from Crowley. "Robert." He forced out, lips white. "Run."

Run? What?

Bobby looked around quickly, but the living room was empty. What did Crowley mean?

Grabbing his shotgun, he turned around to notice Crowley fall to his knees, crying out.

Every instinct and thought Bobby possessed disappeared the second Crowley screamed. He grabbed for the demon, but a wave of power pushed him to the floor.

"No!" Screamed Crowley, holding his head in pain as a low buzzing sound filled the room.

A dark shape flew past Bobby, shoving itself down Crowley's throat as the demon kept screaming, a long, painful sound that cut Bobby to the core.

Suddenly, the buzzing stopped, and Bobby saw Crowley stand up gracefully, face devoid of any pain.

Wait a second. Since when were Crowley's eyes red?

Crowley smiled slowly, making flashes of a grinning skull appear in Bobby's mind.

"Robert Singer," the not-Crowley drawled. "Your presence is requested. Immediately."

Bobby could only stare. His only thought was Crowley save Crowley where is he possessed Crowley Crowley-

Whatever it was used Crowley's face to smirk.

"What do they say here? Let's ride?" Came the familiar, clipped tones.

Bobby felt something hit the back of his head and crumpled to the floor, everything going dark.

The last thing he saw was Crowley falling to the floor too, face tortured, eyes fading back to brown before everything went black.

* * *

A/N Cliffhanger! What did you think? Should I keep going?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Surprise update! Thank you so much for your reviews. They literally rock my world.

Like the way the story's heading? Don't? Leave me a review!

Rating has gone up to M for obvious reasons.

* * *

Dreams were funny places.

Crowley was smiling at him in this one, face a sort of fuzzy gold as they walked through a park.  
The birds were calling and the wind was rustling softly.

It was perfect-yet everything had a sort of too-bright quality to it, colors pressing and intense.

Bobby looked down to see his arm in Crowley's, the two of them walking down the forest path together slowly.

Bobby was aware of a deep emotion swirling around him, a pure happiness he hadn't felt before Crowley. It felt like coming home again, even though part of Bobby knew it wasn't real.

The sun glinted as the memory fast-forwarded, and Bobby found himself on a picnic blanket in the middle of a clearing, Crowley looking hopeful across from him.

"Robert," Crowley was saying, gold ring in his hand, down on one knee in front of him.  
Bobby took it all in slowly, the flash of the sun against the band in Crowley's hand, the peacefulness of the day.

Crowley's hopeful smile.

The memory skipped again and Bobby found himself where he and Crowley had been a few weeks ago, right before their fight.

"His name is Will," Crowley murmured, tracing his finger across the adoption papers as they stood in the kitchen.

Crowley turned, emotion plain on his face as he smiled at Bobby.

"What do you think, Robert?" He asked softly, accent making the words feel like honey to Bobby's feverish brain.

Bobby reached for the picture, memory or dream not letting him speak.

There was a picture of a small blond boy on the front, wide smile making a part of Bobby crumble as he grabbed the paper.

Before he could touch the papers, a sudden wind blew them away, changing the golden light to a dark blue, temperature dropping swiftly.

The dark swallowed everything, and Bobby cried out then, in cold and fear.

He turned but Crowley was gone, fading with a quick whisper, words Bobby couldn't catch before everything closed in and Bobby was falling, falling...

_add a line break here…

"Robert," a familiar voice whispered off to his right. "Wake up darling."

It said painfully, voice catching a little on the last word.

Bobby's eyes flew open, hunter's instincts quickly cataloging the cold iron cuff around his left ankle as he came to his senses.

He was laying on the floor, dim light filtering in from some sort of shaft on the wall next to him.  
Bobby viewed his new surroundings slowly, taking in details.

He realized he was in a cell of some sort.

Not a usual cell, though. The walls were made out of sheets of metal, shiny and thick against Bobby's curious palm.

The whole cell was connected, metal flowing seamlessly along the walls. Even the floor was made out of metal.

It was perfectly symmetrical, save for the bolt on the center of the floor. Two chains ran from it, one to Bobby's chain and the other to-

Crowley. The person who'd spoken, shadowed in the dim light.

The demon lay there, matching cuff clamped around his leg. He was shirtless now, ripped dress pants his only clothing. The dim light reflected off his pale shoulders, leather strap marks outlined darkly in bruises against his skin.

The demon's face was grim, pale and tired under dried blood running down his face yet he managed a smile (more of a weak smirk, really).

He looked like a tired king, legs perfectly positioned in a form of power, commanding and graceful even when injured, but he looked at Bobby with hollow eyes and circles as dark as his hair.

"Crowley!" Bobby said worriedly, foolishly standing up and moving towards him, chain dragging behind him loudly.

"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching his hand out to touch the cut on Crowley's temple. "You're bleeding."

Crowley's face went from pained to terrified instantly, trying to move back away from Bobby. "No, Robert, don't touch me!" He said quickly, eyes wide and alarmed.

Too late, Bobby's hand made contact with Crowley's skin, opening up a whole new world to Bobby as every sense in his body lit up with pain.

The instant he touched the demon, an indescribable wave of pain rolled across his mind, cutting off the scream he didn't even know he'd been making.

The pain held him there, electrifying and cold, so cold. Bobby couldn't move, couldn't release himself. All he could feel was the pain, radiating from where his hand held his lover's face.

Suddenly, he was released, falling to his knees with a choked cry.

His whole body _ached. _

"Don't touch me." Crowley repeated weakly, breathing heavily. "It won't be that fun the next time."

Bobby frowned, opening his mouth only to realize he couldn't catch his breath.

Lowering himself to the floor, he gripped his right hand, willing the pain away slowly like he'd seen Sam do when the hallucinations got too bad.

When he could breath again, he was all questions.

"What _was _that?" He asked, taking the time to test the cuff around his leg.

Damn. Tight.

"An unfortunate side effect." Crowley muttered, motionless in the corner.

Bobby frowned, confused.

"What do you mean, a side effect? A side effect of what?"

Crowley sighed, but rolled over and bared his back to Bobby.

Bobby's breath caught in his throat.

Crowley's back was a mangled mess of flesh, too gruesome to look at for a normal person.

A line of cuts ran down Crowley's shoulder blades, cutting and circling over each other in a sort of grotesque pattern.

The cuts were still bleeding a little, thick red blood weeping out of the edges. Mixed in with the blood was a pale blue liquid, dyeing the edges of the cuts like a syrup.

Bobby could barely look, stomach rolling. The cuts were terrible, a sort of terrible Bobby knew Crowley was familiar with, yet he still knew hurt.

Bobby tilted his head, pattern seeming familiar. Then it came to him.

Wings. Someone had cut wings into Crowley's back.

They were like a terrible parody, spiraling out across his back in long, short, wide and thin lines.

Bobby took a breath and spoke.

"Crowley, turn around." He begged the demon. "Are you alright?" He asked when the demon turned back around, amazed when he saw Crowley didn't flinch. At all.

"I'm fine." Crowley said simply. "I'm sorry I caused you pain." He told Bobby almost formally, eyes like two dark orbs in the half-light.

Bobby shook his head. "What are they doing to you here?" He asked bitterly, looking around the metal cage again for an exit.

There was none.

Crowley shook his head, weak attempt at a smile making Bobby's stomach twist again.

"Nothing I can't handle." He told Bobby, but he was looking at his hands, not meeting Bobby's eyes.

Well, balls.

"Crowley," Bobby started. "How long have you been here?" He asked, worriedly trying to lock eyes with the demon.

"Since we fought." Crowley murmured, still avoiding eye contact. "Bobby, you don't understand."

"What?" He asked quickly, trying to get Crowley talking.

The demon frowned, confused. A distant look crossed his face, almost like he was listening for something.

Bobby leaned forward, keeping his distance, but tried to get Crowley back.

"Crowley?" He asked, terrified. "Crowley?"

A panicked look flitted across his lover's face suddenly; shocking Bobby so much he scrambled backwards against the wall.

A low grinding sound hummed against the wall, metal peeling back slowly as a shaft of light poured in, blinding Bobby momentarily while Crowley shut his eyes like he'd seen it before.

"Well, well." A voice crooned from the light, low and dangerous.

"Bobby Singer." It stated, appearing like a shadow against the beams of light.

Crowley hissed off to his left, sounding weak but aggressive.

The light faded and Bobby could see again. In front of him stood a tall, curly haired man, dressed in simple clothes as he strode forward, kneeling in front of Bobby.

Its eyes were blue, piercing and sharp, staring into Bobby as it spoke.

"We've been waiting for you."

* * *

I know! It's short. Hopefully I'll update soon. Like the way the story's heading? Leave me a review!


	5. Chapter 5

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Chapter Five

A/N So, ah, new chapter? I will write more, I promise! I've been putting off a lot of stuff, including this story. Rest assured that I have not forgotten about it. Rating for this chapter has gone way up. If you're not comfortable with this, be warned. Reviews are always welcome.

* * *

Crowley flinched the second the strange man grabbed Bobby's jaw, turning it side to side as he examined Bobby.

He'd never known the demon to be scared; hell, they'd been through some scary things together, but he'd never seen fear in Crowley's eyes. When the man touched Bobby, a visible shudder ran through the demon's body.

"Bobby Singer." The new man purred, gold hair catching the small shafts of light coming in through the doorway.

Bobby ignored him, trying to tilt his head to see Crowley better. The demon was still curled up defensively against the wall, but the blank mask was back again.

Bobby found that he hated that look, the empty, lifeless eyes betraying no emotion. Bobby wasn't stupid, he knew Crowley wasn't human. But to see absolutely none of that spark that was so Crowley was terrifying.

The gold-haired man was still holding his jaw, eyeing Bobby like a sack of meat. Bobby's inner Dean Winchester decided to make an entrance then.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He told the man snarkily, trying to hold a brave expression on his face. If Crowley was this scared, and maybe that wasn't even the emotion to call it, Bobby knew there was no way he was getting out of this whole.

The new man didn't move, didn't flinch or acknowledge Bobby. Besides his earlier words and Bobby's name, he was oddly silent. He stood back up, long limbs unfolding with an inhuman grace.

Turning to Crowley, he spoke one word in what Bobby recognized was Enochian.

"Adna."

Crowley flinched again, eyes briefly flicking black as emotion flashed across his face, then was gone again.

The tall man gestured at two guards standing outside of the cage, pointing them towards Bobby. The two men were all muscle, toned and perfected in an almost military fashion. Bobby knew he had no chance. Maybe Dean and Sam would have, but he was getting old.

The two men walked up to him in perfect synchrony, but instead of attacking him, one of them unfastened the cuff around his leg while the other watched Crowley.

"Crowley?" Bobby dared, hoping his voice carried over to the demon. "Are you there?"

No reply. Crowley was like a statue, staring blankly at the metal wall while Bobby was taken towards the doorway.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked the tall man, trying to twist around and see Crowley again.

They wrenched him out the door savagely, hands gripping Bobby around his arms, keeping him immobile. The tall man stayed in the room, waving them on.

Bobby only caught one glimpse of the cage before he was taken down a strangely lit hallway, heart beating faster when his body realized he couldn't Crowley anymore.

* * *

They took him to a large room down the hallway, metal just like the first. A large skylight was embedded in the ceiling, similar to the one Bobby kept in his now unused panic room.

Bobby had been in the room for about twenty minutes, guards (he assumed that was what they were) leaving him unchained. The second Bobby had seen their backs disappear around the corner, he'd run up to the doorway.

The second he got there, the door was a wall of metal, smooth and cold under his palms. However many times he ran his hands over it, there were no ridges. The door had simply disappeared.  
He'd resolved himself to pacing, but his right knee had begun to ache. He figured it must have been wrenched when he'd been taken, and it hurt terribly. Sitting down on the cold floor, he massaged the joint as he tried to gain control over the situation.

What he knew was very little. Crowley had been tortured, tortured horribly if Bobby knew anything. In all honesty, he could expect no hope in escape from the demon. He'd looked broken, the last thing he'd expected to see when he woke up.

The tall man knew Enochian, and that really only meant two things. Either he was a crazy dead-language expert with a kidnapping kink, or Bobby had an angel on his hands.

Which was not a good sign.

He had at least two guards with him, possibly angels too. Sadly, that meant Bobby was outnumbered before he even began counting.

After having that sad mental math session, Bobby had given up, knowing nothing could change until someone came to get him. Which raised a pretty big question.

Why was he here?

Bobby didn't know.

* * *

An hour later, Bobby was still on the floor. He'd taken to getting up and pacing quickly to keep from cramping, but after his sixteenth time around the same metal room, it was getting a little tiresome.

Well, not as tiresome as Crowley seemed to have been, and Bobby was thanking his lucky stars at the same time he was cursing them.

The waiting dragged on for Bobby, and though he'd never been good at being patient, hunter's instincts overruled impatience, even at his age. His senses were slowly sharpening as he calmed himself down. There were times when all you could do was wait, and this was one of them.

Which is why he wasn't too surprised when the wall melted into a doorway thirty minutes after that, metal flowing away like quicksilver as a figure stepped through.

Bobby stood, expecting the tall man (angel?) who'd seemed to have been in charge last time.

Instead, the slightly smaller frame of Crowley appeared, still wearing nothing but the pants.

"Crowley!" Bobby shouted in surprise, eyes widening as he realized what this meant.

There was another cut on Crowley's forehead, and blood dribbled down sluggishly from it. The blood had a metallic smell to it, like licking a penny would taste.

Bobby didn't reach forward, knowing whatever they had done to Crowley before might have still shocked him. He kept his distance, but sent a smile to his demon.

"I can't believe you escaped!" He said gratefully, not noticing right away the quick shifting of Crowley's eyes. They weren't dull anymore, but filled with a sharper emotion Bobby couldn't place.

"Crowley?" He asked softly after a second. "Are you alright?"

The demon didn't reply, just stood in the doorway, looking at Bobby so emotionally Bobby just wanted to grab him in a hug and leave.

"C'mon," He told the demon. "We need to get out of here. Get those cuts cleaned, call Sam and Dean…" He trailed off as the demon stepped forward, hand coming up.

Bobby stepped forward, expecting a touch or something, he didn't know. The last thing he remembered were Crowley's eyes flicking black, and a quick Sorry before a hand rested on his forehead and everything went black.

* * *

He woke up lying on his back again, world fuzzy as he tried to place his surroundings. He saw the glinting of metal, and knew he must still be in one of the cages again. The world was still spinning a little, and Bobby couldn't really remember why.

He tried to rub a hand across his eyes, concerned when it didn't move. Looking to his side slowly, he blinked at the strap he found there.

There were leather straps on each of his limbs, tying him down to something hard below him. Looking straight up, he saw the skylight and everything came back to him.

"Crowley!" He shouted gruffly, trying to find the demon. What had happened? Why had Crowley knocked him out again?

He heard footsteps behind him, and twisted, trying to see who it was.  
A shadow fell over him, making him blink as the familiar scent of Crowley washed over him.

"What are you doing?" He asked slowly, wondering what had gone wrong. Crowley's eyes were all black now, like twin voids that Bobby knew could go on forever. His face was still set in an absent expression, not making eye contact with Bobby as he mechanically checked the straps, then disappearing from Bobby's view.

He heard semi-familiar noises of metal sliding against metal, but his mind was too fuzzy still to place them at once. When his mind caught up with the straps and the sounds, it felt like ice in his veins.

"Crowley." Bobby said desperately. "Please, don't do this." He tried to catch his lover's eyes but couldn't.

The demon ignored him and brought a wickedly sharp looking knife into Bobby's field of vision, sharpening it slowly like Bobby had seen Dean do to intimidate demons.

Except Bobby wasn't a demon.

Instincts flared to life again, and Bobby began to struggle, twisting in the leather straps as Crowley brought the knife closer.

Breathing heavily, he watched as the knife descended towards his stomach, resting on the thin material of his t shirt that covered it.

Crowley frowned then, black eyes still present, and brought it down lightly across the top of the fabric. The material split like tissue paper, and the ghosting of the knife caused a thin line of red to appear on Bobby's stomach.

Grunting to himself, he kept his mouth shut. Screaming was the last thing he'd do.

Crowley went back to looking expressionlessly at Bobby's chest, as if he was analyzing which way best to cut it up. Bobby's fear crazed mind brought up a memory of the time Bobby had taken the demon to the museum reenactment of polish holidays. There'd been a pig then, and the way Crowley had glanced at it then mirrored the way he was gazing at Bobby now.

If he hadn't been in such denial, he probably would've been more terrified.

Grabbing the knife in a tighter grip, Crowley slashed suddenly over Bobby's arm, giving Bobby barely enough time to smother the surprised shriek that tried to escape.

Breathing heavily, he watched the blood pump out of his arm, knowing the cut was just as deep as possible without causing blood loss. He knew this, some of it whispered from Crowley on broken nights and some from the own torture he'd had to use.

Crowley was watching too, pausing in his routine to gaze at the thick blood as it flowed out of Bobby. Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone again before Bobby could see.  
Grabbing a block of metal, Crowley began to slice small slivers of the silver block off, placing them in a bowl on a tray next to Bobby's head. A small flame was underneath the bowl, heating it. Bobby could smell the metal heating up, but didn't know how Crowley planned on using it.

Frankly, his mind was still trying to catch up with the whole _Crowley's going to torture you, Crowley's going to torture you…_ thought that kept whispering through his head. He couldn't accept that, wouldn't.

There had to be some reason. Crowley had been tied up before, didn't that mean anything? Why was he suddenly in charge?

The King Of Hell gazed down at him without expression, still slicing the block of metal effortlessly as Bobby's arm pulsed. This wasn't Crowley, he decided. Not anymore.

The demon grabbed the bowl of metal shards in one hand and a pair of copper tweezers in the other, walking closer to Bobby silently.

Bobby closed his eyes as he realized what the demon intended to do. He'd seen Dean use it only once, and the demon it was used on had screamed so terribly Bobby almost had to leave the room.

He wouldn't scream. He couldn't, owed it to Crowley when he came back.

He ignored the part of him that whispered _If_.

The demon placed the tweezers into the bowl, extracting a piece of the now white hot metal (how that was possible, he didn't know) and placed the tip of it against Bobby's chest.

Bobby barely held back the scream now, focusing on his breathing as the metal slowly burned against his skin. Tears poured down his cheeks as the demon began to twist, shoving the metal slowly under his skin.

It felt like ages, but it really must have only been seconds. The first piece was in, a burning lump under skin. He could barely breathe, the smell of burning flesh too much for him.

He felt a terror of no end well up within him as the demon took another piece out of the bowl, copper tweezers flashing in the dim light as he moved to put another piece of the metal under his skin.

By the third piece of metal, Bobby's vision began to shake. Everything the demon did seemed blurry, but the pain was still there.

After nine slivers had been shoved into his skin, Bobby had gotten the hang of slow, concentrated breathing. He could feel the lumps of metal burning him from the inside out, and the pain was terrible. He never would have thought it could hurt this much.

He hadn't screamed yet, and that was his only prize so far.

* * *

The tenth piece came down towards him, glowing impossibly hot. Bobby flinched away, knowing the pain was coming but still wishing Crowley would respond.

He'd tried calling to him, in between the sixth and seventh pieces, begging Crowley to stop, to stop the pain. The only thought going through his head then was disbelief. Why was he doing this?

After the eight piece had slid home, he'd stopped pleading and started cursing. It didn't matter anymore, and so he cursed Crowley, tears running down his face as all he got in return were those terrible eyes.

If Bobby could see himself now, he knew he would be disgusted, but the pain was all he could feel, all he was. Not just the slivers in his chest, burning like acid, but the pain of betrayal, represented by a mask of blankness.

God, he thought.

God had nothing to do with this.

Crowley had begun doing something when Bobby stopped responding to the new slivers, dunking them in some sort of solution that made them burn even worse. By the time the second to last sliver had been shoved in gracefully, he'd nearly let loose a scream. It burned, burned worse than hell, even though Bobby only knew it through Crowley's eyes.

The tenth piece was still descending towards him, time slowing down as a part of Bobby whispered _This is it, this is your last piece. Your breaking point. This time you'll scream._

There was still an insane part of him that tried to protect Crowley, knowing the demon could blame himself for everything. If Bobby screamed, that would be on him. Not Crowley.

The tenth piece of metal brushing against his skin thought differently.

The pain built to a crescendo, a perfect song that Crowley had crafted just as perfectly. The metal in his body was placed perfectly, causing the most pain in the worst ways. Crowley's warning cut still throbbed on his arm, leaking blood slower now.

The tenth piece pushed in suddenly, and the whole world lit up in white as Bobby finally screamed.

* * *

Review?:(


	6. Chapter 6

A/N So, to all of the people who reviewed and followed and favorited, I profusely apologize. I have been very neglectful and have not updated this story in two months. My beta went on a rant this morning and convinced me to sit my butt down and write, so here it is. Once again, I'm very sorry I've neglected this piece. I love Crobby and my beta, and I have disappointed both. I hope this chap is worth it. Reviews are very much appreciated, even though I understand if you don't review.

* * *

Bobby woke slowly, immediately noticing the painful burning of the white-hot metal in his chest. He stifled a groan as the pieces shifted minutely, tenth piece of acidic metal sending sharp lances of pain through him. He couldn't open his eyes, pain forcing him to focus on not screaming.

He heard voices, blurry at first but clearer after a second. Bobby noted with detached irony that he really was getting too old to be knocked out repeatedly.

His heart throbbed as he heard a low groan of pain in front of him, a sound he'd never heard come from Crowley but instantly recognizable. It shattered through the pain, forcing Bobby to wrench his eyes open.

Crowley was kneeling in front of the table Bobby was tied to, form shaking with tremors. The golden man from earlier stood above him, smile gone as he scowled at the demon.

"Adna!" He said forcefully, the word from before ringing with power. Crowley didn't submit this time, head shaking from side to side. He fought the command, even though he was kneeling.

"Do it!" The golden man screamed. "Adna! Break him!"

Crowley raised his head, eyes black as the night but holding more Crowley in them than Bobby had seen in weeks.

"No." He said lowly, voice smooth even as he gasped in pain a second later. Bobby craned his head, startled to see the wings on Crowley's back start to weep blood again.

A change seemed to overcome the man, face going from furious to politely disdainful in a second. The eerie calm that appeared scared Bobby more than any angry words could.

"You won't do it?" The golden man asked snidely, staring down at Crowley in contempt. "Can't break a human? Honestly, I would've expected more from the King of Hell, but I guess it goes to show that appearances aren't everything, hmm?"

Bobby grew nervous as the man stalked past Crowley's trembling frame, ending up right in front of Bobby.

"Oh, look. He's awake!" The gold man cawed, blue eyes ferociously bright as he stared down at Bobby.

The man turned back to Crowley. "Isn't this just great? We can tell him the whole story now!" He clapped his hands together. "I do like it when a plan comes together like this!"

Bobby glanced at Crowley, anger flaring as he saw the flash of pain in his lover's eyes.

"You see, Bobby," the man said to him, leaning forward over his bloody chest. "This wasn't about you, darling. It was always about breaking your demon over there." He said, pointing at Crowley.

"Or is it the other way around?" The man asked jokingly, smile dropping for a second when Crowley didn't respond.

Bobby glared at the man, throat suddenly constricting before he could answer. The glint in the man's eyes keyed him in to thinking that was probably his idea, along with the small hand wave.

"Nothing would work." The man said, turning and sighing like Crowley was simply an impudent dog that had misbehaved. "Knives, hooks, acid, you name it." He paused. "Not even bamboo torture, and come on. That shit's fun.

"I mean, I knew he was the King of Hell. Simple torture wouldn't break him, but there had to be _something,_ you know?" The man asked, eyes inquiring as he looked down at Bobby.

"But then..." The man paused again, small smile turning his lips. "I mentioned you. A normal torturer wouldn't have seen it, but I did. What that name did to him, oh the delicious _fear_ that flickered across his face. It was beautiful."

Crowley shifted, turning so he could glare at the man. His eyes were still black, echoing nothing but primal anger and righteousness.

"You wouldn't break over a name, of course." The golden man said to Crowley. "And I couldn't figure it out. If you loved him so much, why wouldn't you care when I threatened to never let you see him again? You flinched a little when I threatened him, sure, but that wasn't it.

"And I couldn't figure it out. _Me_. Do you know how many people I've had on my table?" He asked Bobby, releasing his hold on Bobby's voice with a wave of his hand, stepping forward to cup Bobby's face.

"How many?" Bobby croaked out around the pain. The man's hand was icy against his skin, feeling dead and corpse-like.

"Millions." The man said, waving his hand again. Bobby glared as his voice disappeared again, leaving a hollow feeling in his throat.

"So imagine this; me, the king of hell, a table and a pair of pliers. Just a good ole torture session, nothing big, right? No answers so far. And then I had this idea." He said, smile twisting his face again.

"What if I just took a peek into his mind? Nothing too big, you know how slimy demons are, but deep enough to see about you. Why you, Bobby, were so special. Why your name was so _embedded_ in his mind.

"So, imagine my surprise when his biggest fear isn't you getting hurt. No. You wanna know what his biggest fear is?"

He sidled up to Bobby, lowering his head so he could still stare at Crowley. "Hurting you."

Bobby watched Crowley's face twist a little, black eyes obscured by his eyelids for a quick second. The man glared at him, moving a hand until Crowley gasped a little, face going blank. The golden man's smile widened at Crowley's reaction.

"And not just that whole emotional thing either, with painful break ups and separation. No, he dreamed about you out on his table, about holding his blade down inside of you as you screamed.

"And you know what? He _liked_ it. Liked your screams, the taste of your blood as he kept you alive for hours, _days_. How your heart felt when it was beating in his hands, how the life faded out of your eyes." The man snarled, lifting his head. "Didn't you, demon?"

Crowley wouldn't meet Bobby's eyes, blank gaze on the floor. He was rigid, reverent and not Bobby's anymore.

The golden men looked back and forth between them, face calculating.

"Oh. He didn't tell you?" He asked, mock sympathetic. "Shame. It was a pretty graphic experience, all in all. Learned a couple of tricks from it. I didn't ask him if he got off on it or not, though." Turning, he directed his gaze to Crowley, who still knelt.

"I bet you got off on it. I bet you liked it right now when you shoved that metal into him." The golden man said, voice going low and seductive. "And how sweet, he tried to keep from screaming the whole time. But that last piece, that last one. You liked that piece, the one that made him scream, didn't you?" He crooned, walking over to Crowley and standing above him. "That scream." He said, sighing heavily. "I haven't heard that kind of scream in millennia. All that betrayal and emotion in one big explosion. The pure _love_. He still loves you, did you know that, demon? Even after you worked him over. How pathetic." He turned.

"So, thank you, Bobby." He said, looking over Crowley. "For that."

Crowley was still contained, black eyes still respectfully facing the floor. The golden man still stood over him, proud and righteous in the most twisted way. Bobby was pretty sure the man was half a step away from petting the demon.

"I didn't know demons could love." The gold man stated, running a long finger over Crowley's cheeks. "I never thought it was possible. And yet, here we are. Doing the one thing the demon couldn't stand; breaking you. Because if we had hell in our control, there would be control in all the worlds. And who would've thought that one human would control the fate of the world, hmmm?" He sighed, looking down at Crowley. The man seemed to have grown bored of the moment, amusement dripping from his face as looked down at his victim.

"Now finish it." He said, power lancing through his words like a second voice. "Finish it. Break him. Break yourself, you stupid, weak demon. Adna!"

He paused, waiting for Crowley to move. When seconds of silence passed, Bobby had almost begun to hope Crowley had broken free from the enchantment when he heard the words that almost ended himself.

"Yes, Master." The demon said, accent curling around the words. Crowley pushed himself to his feet, black eyes expressionless. The man smiled, victory flashing through his bright blue eyes. Crowley turned, facing Bobby as he began to walk over.

Bobby felt tears well up as being broken faced him. There was torture ahead, worse than before, with the plus side of having to watch Crowley undo himself through it. He tried to reach out, with his mind, his heart, his tied down limbs-_something_.

Bobby had almost given up completely when Crowley's eyes flickered to their normal whiskey color for a fraction of a second before fading to black quickly. Something seemed to brush against him, odd considering the demon was still a few paces away from him.

Bobby tried reaching out again, rewarded with another flicker and that strange sensation of touching something, someone else.

Yes, yes! Bobby wanted to say. Yes! Please! Crowley's eyes began to flicker faster, brown-black brown-black brown-brown-_brown_-

Something broke, pressing him against what he could only assume was Crowley's mind. Dark rage twisted around an image of the golden man, flickering back to worry about Bobby, then anger about himself. The feeling was so strange and enveloping that Bobby tried to pull out some, relieved when the suffocating feeling disappeared.

Crowley spun, quick as a whip. The gold man flew back into the metal wall, surprise barely having time to register before Crowley was on him.

"Fuck you!" Crowley screamed, fists slamming into the man. He looked furious, anger loose on a face that had been blank a second before. Bobby could feel the anger coursing through their bond, dark and ageless. The golden man was still dazed, like he couldn't believe Crowley had escaped.

"Fuck you, you son of a bitch!" The demon screamed louder, pummeling the man. Crowley grabbed the dazed man by the collar powerfully, dragging him to the center of the cell. The man's bloody face looked right to Bobby, somehow.

"What I have planned for you can't even come to describe what I'm going to make you feel." Crowley hissed into the man's ear, voice low and dangerous. "I want to see how you feel to be under a spell. To be someone's BITCH for a day."

The golden man's eyes glowed for a second, blue flashing brightly. Suddenly, Crowley released the man, stumbling back with a small noise of pain. Bobby felt Crowley try to shield it from him, the pain registering more as an itch to Bobby.

"Neat trick." The man said, getting up and wiping the blood off of his face. Two furious black eyes met him, anger singing through the air tangibly. "How'd you break the spell?"

Crowley didn't respond right away, black eyes flicking back to check on Bobby for a second. He felt a strange emotion travel through their bond, quickly clamped down on and twisted into hate.

"I'd say go to Hell, but I really don't want you hanging out in my backyard." Crowley spat at the man as he turned around, but the casual remark was filled with a hate Bobby had never heard his lover use before. "So, are we going to have tea first, or do you want to finish this?"

The golden man studied him for a second, then smirked, eyes glowing blue for a second.

Crowley didn't move this time, confusing Bobby. He couldn't feel any pain, not even an itching sensation. Bobby was about to push through the bond with a question when a sharp pain went through him, icy and worse than anything Crowley had done.

He opened his mouth to scream, realizing distantly that the charm the man had placed on his vocal cords was still in place. He twisted silently, pain coursing through him, through every vein, every memory. This pain was fluid, worse than the sharp hot metals from earlier. This pain was twisted, moving through him and changing every second, becoming and undoing everything, everything.

He felt Crowley's distress weakly, knowing whatever this power was doing was killing him. Crowley reached out, dark and reassuring against the flood of pain. Together, Bobby weakly throwing up a wall, they stood against it. Bobby could barely breathe still, Crowley faring only slightly better. The pain was still changing, twisting within milliseconds. Bobby realized the wave was almost upon them, the final one that would stop Bobby's heart.

DON'T THINK LIKE THAT Crowley's soft voice echoed against the roaring of the pain. Time slowed even further. _You're not leaving me, Robert. I'm never going to leave you again, I promise. But you can't leave me now. _ His voice took on a tone of pain. _Please don't leave me. Please, Robert._ The demon pleaded, voice going weak in a way Bobby didn't even know was possible.

Reinvigorated, Bobby helped push back, silently screaming as the pain built to a crescendo. Together, they clamped down on it, forcing the pain into a small corner. Bobby felt it settle, surprised when he felt it being taken from him.

Time sped up again, and the golden man was moving again. Their battle had taken milliseconds. Crowley made a small noise of pain, clenching his fists briefly before staring at the man in defiance. Bobby felt the small box of pain settle inside of his lover, buried deep in a twisted mass of pain and darkness Bobby could only sense slightly, it was so far down inside of Crowley.

The man quirked an eyebrow, confused when Bobby sighed in relief. No pain flowed through him, and whatever Crowley had done to them was already growing so quick he could feel the metals embedded in him cooling as his lover healed them slowly, unnoticed by the man.

Bobby saw the next scene unfold in Crowley's head, flashing like a memory. The golden man stalked forward, glaring at Crowley.

He opened his mouth to say something, word of power forming on his lips too slowly. Bobby felt Crowley reach inside of himself, grabbing the small box of pain and forcing it forward, threading it through his fingertips and PUSHING it out into the gold man. He placed his hand on the other man's head, quicker than the eye could see.

The golden man screamed, voice shrill as he fell to his knees. Crowley kept his hand where it was, like a cruel blessing over the man as the pain multiplied, forced against something inside the man. Bobby felt Crowley study the influx of power inside the man, and watched as the power fought itself.

Finally, the man's eyes lit up, blue glowing so bright Bobby had to close his eyes. The man screamed one last time, voice holding one terrible, haunting note for what seemed like forever until suddenly all was quiet.

Bobby felt Crowley release the man, heard the slump of a body as it fell to the floor. He opened his eyes to see the dead man staring at the ceiling, eyes burnt out.

Crowley stumbled back from the body, fatigue working its way over the bond. He felt tired suddenly, and flinched when horror traversed the bond. Crowley clamped down on his own fatigue, trying to separate from Bobby as best as possible. The demon walked over to his table, pulling open the leather fasteners and freeing Bobby.

Bobby sat up, pain lancing through him as the metals inside of him jostled. Crowley noticed this, placing a hand over Bobby's bare chest. The skin glowed for a second, power flowing from both of them as the metals dropped out of him, skin healing quickly.

Bobby grabbed Crowley as he stumbled, forcing energy over the strange bond. Crowley stood taller after a second; welcoming the energy as Bobby broke down the weak wall he was trying to keep around his mind.

"Robert." Crowley murmured, placing their foreheads together in an uncharacteristically emotional move. "Oh, Hell. Robert."

Crowley frowned when Bobby didn't reply, opening his eyes and looking down. Bobby smiled a little, gesturing towards his throat and then at the dead man a few feet away.

The demon's eyes flashed with understanding, and with a quick wave like the other man's Bobby's voice was working again.

"Crowley." Bobby said, pulling him into a hug. He didn't care if the demon didn't like them. Mindful of the cuts still open on his lover's back, he gripped him tight. Desperation flooded their bond, quickly secreted away, confusing Bobby. He pulled back, inspecting Crowley in more ways than one.

He gasped as he felt the jagged edges of Crowley's soul, dark like he'd assumed but damaged horrendously. To Bobby's mind, it was if a metaphorical bomb had gone off inside of the demon, tearing gashes in the walls of the rich, sable soul. Bobby felt terror grip him as he realized the effects of holding that small box of pain captive for just a small second.

"Oh my God." Bobby whispered, grabbing Crowley's face. Pain flooded through their bond as Bobby broke the thin bubble Crowley had erected, tearing his way into his lover's mind.

Crowley flinched in his hands, words reverberating in Bobby's mind.

_Leave me be_. His mind whispered. _Robert, _leave.

Bobby refused, pushing back against the emotions Crowley threw at him. His lover fought him within their minds, black power pushing out. Bobby remained stubborn, inspecting the damage without hurting Crowley further.

The gashes were even more terrible than the first time he'd seen them, and he realized they covered the small ones the golden man had inflicted on him while the demon had been gone. Pain flooded from every gash, and every move inside caused Crowley to flinch slightly.

"Shhh." Bobby said, unsure of what he was about to do but knowing deep down that it would help. He reached inside of himself, finding all of his love for the demon and pushing it through the bond. He felt it twist down into Crowley, healing the gashes and the emotions the demon kept down there.

Crowley gasped in his hands, damage far from completely healed, but enough for the demon to break slightly. Bobby felt tears run down Crowley's cheeks, wet against his hands. He opened his eyes to see the demon gazing back at him, pain present but much more diluted.

"Got enough awesome powers to magic us home?" Bobby asked, only half-serious.

Crowley smirked, attitude coming back. Bobby didn't even bother to hide his joy at that, letting it flow through the bond. Crowley smiled a little as he sensed it, raising an eyebrow.

"Why, have a date somewhere?"

* * *

The end? Lemme know!


End file.
